Middle of the Row

I saw The Master again last night, this time with Corey and Michelle. 

It is impossible to watch this movie and not be struck by the sheer physicality of Joaquin Phoenix.  It's an amazing performance, funny and brave, complicated and award-worthy.  You can't take your eyes off the guy, and you'd be wise not to.     

Philip Seymour Hoffman is outstanding as always in a less showy role, but The Master requires every bit of his enormous presence. There are plenty of opportunities for Hoffman to chew the scenery, and he doesn't waste any of them.

Phoenix and Hoffman need each other in The Master.  The characters need each other, the actors need each other.  And little Amy Adams, so prim and proper, wields so much power in this movie. 

It's breathtaking, all of it.
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The movie was at 6:15, and I got to the theater at 5:45.  If you look closely at the stub, you'll see I paid $7 for a student ticket instead of $9.50.  The guy in front of me told the cashier he was an ASU student, but didn't have his i.d. card.  The cashier shrugged and said "you'll have to pay full price." 

I used to work at the university, and even though my i.d. says "staff" it looks identical to a student i.d.  As I dug in my wallet for my money, I must have accidentally pulled out my staff card and laid it on the counter. 

The cashier caught a glimpse of maroon and gold, grunted, gave me the student price. 

I did not bother to correct him.